The “Schools” building, though modern, is one of the stateliest
on the Main Street. Here, in old peaceful times, the university
examinations used to be held. Now it is transformed into a hospital
for the wounded men from the fighting front of freedom.
Sir William Osier, Canadian, and world-renowned physician, is my
guide, an old friend in Baltimore, now Regius Professor of Medicine
in Oxford.
“Come,” he says, “I want you to see an example of the Carrel
treatment of wounds.”
The patient is sitting up in bed--a fine young fellow about twenty
years old. A shrapnel-shell, somewhere in France, passed over his
head and burst just behind him. His bare back is a mass of scars.
The healing fluid is being pumped in through the shattered elbow
of his right arm, not yet out of danger.
“Does it hurt,” I ask.
“Not much,” he answers, trying to smile, “at least not too much,
M'sieu'.”
The accent of French Canada is unmistakable. I talk to him in his
own dialect.
“What part of Quebec do you come from?”
“From _Trois Rivieres,_ M'sieu', or rather from a country back
of that, the Saint Maurice River.”
“I know it well--often hunted there. But what made you go to the
war?”
“I heard that England fought to save France from the damned Germans.
That was enough, M'sieu', to make me march. Besides, I always liked
to fight.”
“What did you do before you became a soldier?”
“I was a lumberjack.”
(What he really said was, _“J'allais en chantier,”_ “I went
in the shanty.” If he had spoken in classic French he would have
said, _“J'etais bucheron.”_ How it brought back the smell of
the big spruce forest to hear that word _chantier_, in Oxford!)
[Illustration: “I was a lumberjack.”]
“Well, then, I suppose you will return to the wood-cutting again,
when this war is over.”
“But no, M'sieu', how can I, with this good-for-nothing arm? I
shall never be capable of swinging the axe again.”
“But you could be the cook, perfectly. And you know the cook gets
the best pay in the whole shanty.”
His face lights up a little.
“Truly,” he replies; “I never thought of that, but it is true. I
have seen a bit of cooking at the front and learned some things.
I might take up that end of the job. _But anyway, Im glad I went
to the war.”_